The man that governs over that which may be accessible by all closes himself off from countless experiences in his life. We have an inherent right to ascertain what we open ourselves to, and what countless unique intricacies of the world around us we choose to indulge in. This right to choose within us all is our own individuality, and without it, we would be nothing.
But when a person threatens to extend that right to choose and govern what we love over those around him, is when one becomes by some measure despicable. Harsh perhaps, and yet a great many people have lost love and passion by way of those who would judge others for what they deem wrong in their own personal thoughts.
Opinions may be held, even shared, but never forced upon others. Stigma is the death of interest, a cloud hanging over the hearts of many. This nature may be applied to a great many areas of life, and often it takes place in people who think it is their God-given right to enforce their own ideals upon others.
People might find something odd, against their own preference, but that does not give them the right to actively condemn another. Perhaps a family who idolizes physical superiority might prop off their own athletically inclined offspring as the pinnacle of what humans might aspire to be, and yet at the same time belittle either privately or publicly the quiet teen who finds music to be their soul, their passion.
How many Mozarts have been turned away by way of those who would deem what is right and wrong? What of the mother who watches serial soap operas in her spare time, and yet looks down on the young couple next door who binge-watch animated television? They both have a love for their respective interests, and yet both sides actively look upon each other and determine the opposite is inferior.
Who is one to ascertain what is superior, and what is right? What is social acceptability, if but the attempt to govern the human condition? Art is subjective, in the same way that life is subjective. Everything that we might know or ever know is open to interpretation, with what one might view as horrible another might view beautiful.
Why might we call someone weird yet praise ourselves as unique? Individuality is what drives human civilization, yet this same individuality births hatred and division, without recognition that differences amongst us are what make us human. We are all weird souls by some measure, destined to hold our respective loves and unique combination of traits close to our hearts until the day we die.
In all respects, the view of oneself as superior to another is the death of human empathy. One’s characteristic traits do not inherently make one better than another, for everything is debatable and capable of being viewed in countless ways. We live in a complex world, free of the black-and-white nature of fantasy, with virtually everything in life morally grey.
While I might be a better overall person than Hitler in the realm of ethics, he most likely would possess a keen eye for art that I might never rival. Everyone is born, everyone grows into an individual unique in their own way, and everyone dies. So many spend their lives viewing their own personality and preferences to be definitive, without recognizing their own folly.
We are not the main characters, but one of the countless individual characters contrasting and weaving together to form the beautiful tapestry that is human existence. Do not look at your peers as odd for their beliefs, for their beliefs are their own to hold. We are inherently allowed to choose what we might put our passion into.
